


stop the world (I wanna get off with you)

by orphan_account



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst I guess, Eventual Romance, Fluff I guess, GRi - Freeform, I honestly have no idea how to tag this, M/M, Nyongtory, Romance, a little angst maybe, nyongtori, slice of life i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2018-11-08 20:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Seungri may or may not have let Jiyong waltz into his life and he has nobody but Seunghyun to tell (even though he knows Seunghyun will never reply him because that man really isunreliable).





	1. « subject: no subject »

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from _Stop the World_ by Arctic Monkeys [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3PyoxMSEHYI)]. Each chapter will be narrated from Seungri's e-mail to Seunghyun.  
>  Forever beta-ed and edited; apologies for mistakes and errors.

 

 ** _Each letter appears on the_** screen one by one.

 

> Dear Seungh

 

The space between Seungri’s eyebrows crinkles as the man reads the nearly-finished two words displayed on his laptop screen. His right middle finger immediately finds the backspace button before the others, once again, dance on the keyboard.

 

> Hi Seunghyun,
> 
> How have you b

 

This time, Seungri halts his hands for a little longer. A frown, once again, is drawn on his face with his lower lip jutting out a little. He shakes his head lightly, finding the backspace button once again.

 

> Hey, Seunghyun.
> 
> How are you? I’ve been doing well here, in case you’re wond

 

> Good morning (good afternoon, good evening, or good night, dependin

 

> Seunghyun, it’s me, Seung

 

> おはようございます、スンヒョンさん！

 

> Salut! Quoi de neuf?

 

The same middle finger hits the same backspace button frantically, even when the screen no longer displays any word to read. Seungri groans in frustration while his head lands with a quiet thud on the wood tabletop. The same doubt finds its way to reach him once again, whispering the same question coming from an invisible mouth straight to his ear: _Are you sure that it’s a good idea, Seungri?_

A heavy sigh brushes his parted lips before his teeth traps the bottom lip while, the man's forcing his brain to think. This did sound like a _good idea_ only hours ago, when he was still inside the taxi after visiting _that guy_. This sounded like a _good idea_ when warm water rinsed his bare body from head to toe inside the shower. And this still sounded like a _good idea_ only less than two hours ago when he was eating his late dinner.

But once he opened his laptop and started typing in letters and words – and it doesn’t take more than 10 minutes – this suddenly becomes a **_stupid idea_**. Telling everything that has happened within the past weeks to Seunghyun? Revealing all the things he has done? And more importantly, writing about Jiyong to someone Seungri has known for years? Definitely a **_stupid idea_**.

Mostly because he knows that Seunghyun won’t reply to his e-mail.

Seungri shifts his body slightly, trying to feel a bit more comfortable while maintaining the same uncomfortable posture. His two fingers fiddle on the keyboard; their tips lightly touch the buttons, creating a hushed noise amidst the silent dining room. Eyes are fixated at the nothingness.

Since this may be the stupidest idea Seungri will ever come up with this year, he’ll still give it a shot anyway. Because: _Seunghyun will **never** reply_.

 

 

* * *

 

 **《 subject: no subject 》**  

 

 

I know that you’re not going to write me back anyway, that's why I absolutely give zero fuck about what you’ll do. So, here I am.

First of all, I’m good. Still alive. Still breathing. That’s why I can send you this e-mail; I’m still a _living_ being.

Secondly, my family’s doing well. Mom’s still the same woman; the café probably won’t be this big if she wasn’t the one who managed it. Describing Mom as ‘healthy’ will be an utter bullshit – well, you know her. And Hana’s always there to keep Mom in check and helps her manage the café. I swear to Neptune and Gaia, she’s becoming more and more like Mom every day. Plus, she’s engaged now; her fiancé is a guy who owns a graphic design studio only one block away from the café, so I guess I don’t need to tell you how they met, right? Meanwhile, Dad enjoys his life only more and more every day. He still handles the beach house and spends most of his time fishing. It seems like only Mom and family time (but mostly Mom) that can make him drive to the city.

Thirdly, work is still a bitch, but that kind of bitch that gives me a lot of money. I won’t give you details, though; your artsy soul’s always unable to digest it. (And as always, I know that you’ll tell me that you’ll never let your future kids go to the business school since they’ll become artists like you instead.)

And then there are Daesung and Youngbae, whose muscles are seemingly getting more and more ripped each day. Daesung’s so buff now and it somewhat makes his head looks smaller. It’s a good thing that he never skips legs day, although I’m getting sick of him bouncing pecs whenever the three of us finally have a time for lunch or dinner. He’s still a hermit, though – being a personal trainer really is the most suitable job for him. And with the members of elite part of the city as his clients… well, let’s say that Kang Daesung has become the most wanted bachelor right now. Both girls and guys love him, although the man himself still insists that he doesn’t do ‘ship’ as in ‘relationship.’ And no, you don’t need to worry at all; Youngbae and I once barged into his place and his dick was still intact.

Meanwhile, Youngbae’s engaged now. And you were completely **wrong** when you said that he had a crush on me because guess who’ve been having a long-distance relationship for fucking _five_ years? It’s Dong Youngbae, our master of dope-ness. His girlfriend – now fiancée – has returned to Korea summer last year after studying in England. She’s a really cool girl, you know? Name’s Min Hyorin and it’s not difficult to understand why Youngbae’s completely smitten by her. They’ll get married summer next year and Dad allows them to use the beach house for the wedding for free.

The weather’s getting warmer each day, although there are still some days when it feels like it's January again. I haven’t seen any bloom, but Hana sent me a picture last week; it was taken near the café. So I guess I can safely inform you that spring really is coming.

Remember the small coffee shop around the corner? The one flanked between a drugstore and a boutique? It’s no longer there… but the good news is, it’s now closer to my apartment. Yes, it’s only across the street and has a more spacious interior. That kid Jongdae’s still working there, and he’s the only one with the task of serving my cup every morning before I go to work. Sometimes, we still talk about you and your unhealthy obsession for caramel latte (seriously, Seunghyun, which grown-up who’ll order a cup of latte with _triple_ shots of caramel syrup? Oh wait, it’s **you** ).

And do you still remember Jongin? My neighbor who often sends us a box of cake every month? Apparently, it’s his boyfriend who bakes them and since he – name’s Kyungsoo – moved into Jongin’s apartment, guess who gets regular dose of strawberry shortcake every week? Definitely **_not_** _you_.

There are so many things have happened since last year, Seunghyun – wait, or should it be the last two years? Or is it 1 year, _4 months_ , and _2 weeks_?

Nothing in this world remains static, unless the change itself; that’s what people say. People around us have changed too, even if the changes are only as subtle as graying (Mom and Dad) or something big that’ll change our life in the future, like a ring wrapping around the base of the fourth finger (Youngbae and Hana) or seeing someone lying next to us when we wake up every morning (Jongin and Kyungsoo).

And you, Seunghyun, have _changed_ too. You may not notice it now, but I do. And no, it’s not about you who are no longer around – it’s something more _fundamental_. You’ll admit it later; trust me.

About me… well, it’s pretty… difficult, I guess. I’m fully aware of the changes around me, but the ones _in_ me? Most of the times, when I look up the sky, I suddenly feel like I’m a misfit. Even the patch of canvas looming over my head will never remain the same in each passing time. The sun will rise and set, marking the beginning and ending of a day. Tar-black sky comes along with the sparks of stars. Yet I still am the same old me. The _same_ old Seungri.

I can already imagine you complaining, “But you’re getting old, _idiot_!”

But that’s _the problem_ , you know? I don’t feel like I’ve been older – the law of time should be added to the context first for me to connect to the universe, to relate to whatever’s currently occurring around me. Because when they’re living in the present, my term of _present time_ still falls somewhere within these last two years.

However, whatever deity up there apparently cannot accept any misfit so they all probably have been conspiring all this time, formulating a masterplan as an attempt to kick me back into the real world. And rather than gifting me a superpower to change my mundane life, they send me _something else_ instead. But then I remember that all higher power never really give us what we really need, right? We, humans, are so fragile and our life’s probably just a silly joke for them.

Don’t get excited first, Seunghyun, because what they sent me is a man and he’s an utter **_dick_**. I promise I’ll bother you with another e-mail and next time, it’ll be about this dickhead – his name’s Jiyong, by the way.

It’s almost 2:00 A.M. here and there’s a morning meeting at 8:00 (it’s Thursday, _remember_? Let this giant panda sleep for now).

Until then.

 

 

* * *

 


	2. « subject: I’ll be damned »

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope nobody would've thought that this would be a story full of deep talks and shits after reading the first chapter because I really am not sorry if I "happened" to "disappoint" you.

 

**« subject: I’ll be damned »**

 

 

Hello, it’s me.

 _Not sorry_ for the most unoriginal opening ever; if you forget, it’s from _Hello_ by Adele. _Your_ Adele, Seunghyun. (Goddammit, why the image of you singing _Someone Like You_ so dramatically in the karaoke suddenly comes across my head? Eww.) And speaking of Adele, I nearly believed myself when my silly brain told me that the name was originated from Adel or Adil, an Arabic word meaning ‘justice’ – it’s a long story that involved five sleepless nights, Jongdae’s triple shots in six days consecutively, and buckets of chicken wings that surely would make you shriek in horror.

So, now you finally find out why this e-mail is, like, almost 40 days late. I really am _not sorry_ for giving you a false hope, thinking that I would’ve forgotten and never sent you a message anymore. Told ya: **zero fuck given**.

And finally I saw the blooming flowers last week. I was dropping by the café because Mom had been complaining about how little the amount of time I spent with her these weeks – “Remind me again why I even allowed you to become an _auditor_ , Lee Seungri!” Oh wow, Mom definitely has to audition for a role as a hysterical woman in drama. ASAP – and my team “happened” to finish the opinion, despite our client’s litigation that nearly made Jinwoo explode after binging on _mandu_ due to the amount of procedures he had to do for this subsequent event. (And I guess you’re singing loudly now with your hands covering your ears tightly? Again: _not sorry_.)

Oh, right. About the bloom… well, I didn’t know that Hana had been growing perennials on the café’s terrace – “It’s because you haven’t seen us for _months_ , Lee Seungri!” Mom. Again. Yeah – so I guess it didn’t really count but still, spring is coming. Eat that, Ned Stark. That’s why you died!

It’s especially warmer here as I’ve spent the last few days enjoying the _normal_ work hours, meaning that I can meet Jiyong more often recently. And before I tell you what’s been happening between me and him, let’s go back to that one freezing early January’s night in which I was walking with three buckets of chicken wings in hand (and no, you can **no longer** tell me that I should eat less chicken wings!), rushing towards my office for another overtime when I eventually noticed _him_.

Well, it was actually the stupid me’s fault because I didn’t do it right away, especially when he had been walking next to me, matching his pace with mine, for minutes. But Seunghyun, you can’t really blame me and my ~~stupidity~~ obliviousness when you have a boss as shitty as Mr. Hyunsuk – WHY WASN’T I IN MS. HYORI’S TEAM??? WHYYYYYY???? Seriously, man, that guy was and is still a pain in anyone-else’s-not-my ass, and it was much worse when our client was, like, a company next door.

He just continued walking, not saying anything, yet he was probably grinning all the time since his gums and teeth were the ones I immediately saw once my stupid brain finally recognized the presence of another human being on my side. I was completely sure that he was just some random person who randomly pulled a prank on random pedestrian so I sped up but he easily matched my speed. His gummy grin turned into a series of laughter as he kept up with my strides; meanwhile, I was only more convinced that the laughing man next to me was a lunatic and that I was probably cursed that day.

When it was only one block away from my office, I could feel a hand on my shoulder and hear a quiet tap – it had to be _him_ because, _who else_? So I screamed in panic and sprinted and never looked back and called Daesung to fetch me and avoided the chicken restaurant forever…

…which is a _BIG **fat** lie_ because Lee Seungri couldn’t be separated for too long from his precious chicken wings. The truth is ( _not_ surprisingly) I could only last for 24 hours without chicken wings so I, **absolutely** , had returned to the restaurant (blame the owner, Jonghoon, and his hands for the best spicy chicken wings in Korea… scratch that, but on Earth… and no, they’re the best in Milky Way). And guess who did I see there?

Definitely _not_ you, Seunghyun – most likely because your artsy soul can never take the heavenly taste of spicy fried chicken wings and their crunchiness to their bones.

And yeah, it was _him_ , who quickly flashed his wide grin once his eyes found mine.

I should’ve adult-napped Daesung that day so I could hide behind his nothing-but-muscular body like a silly scaredy-cat I am. But it was Thursday evening and a training session with the Mayor’s daughter and her cronies seemed to be more important to him than saving his best friend’s life from a stranger-slash-lunatic.

Of course, being a sensible person like I’ve always been (unlike **you** ), I averted my gaze and focused my attention to Jonghoon, who was still serving a loud yet indecisive woman with a wide smile on his face, trying to transmit an S.O.S. message and probably drilling a hole through his forehead. (Like, seriously, dude? There’s _no_ need to be uncertain what to order because there’s only **_one_** rule when it comes to chicken wings: Buy. All. Of. Them.) Unintentionally, my eyes wavered and glanced at the spot where he was, but his figure was no longer there. Thinking that I was already safe, I think I couldn’t hide a loud sigh of relief, especially when Jonghoon finally greeted me.

Right after my name slipped out of Jonghoon’s smile, the hair on the back of my neck stood not because of how my favorite restaurant’s owner called me, but the low whisper breathed into my ear:

“So… _Seungri_ , hmm?”

That was exactly how I _knew_ how fucked up I was.

I remembered the voice, Seunghyun. I _remembered_ it, and once I turned around and his face was only a few inches away from mine, my brain finally recalled one vague memory of slurred words, salty air and light breeze, sound of waves crashing into the constellation of rocks, and a dirty dance shared between two bodies.

I’m always **right** whenever I say that our life really is such a **joke** , aren’t I? Ask God or whatever the name it is if he/she/insert any gender-neutral pronoun here gets my message, Seunghyun. Tell him/her/insert any gender-neutral pronoun here the meaning of middle finger I always shoot whenever I’m pissed off.

 _I’ll be damned_ , Seunghyun. I did meet him once, and it wasn’t only that typical occasion of hello-nice-to-meet-you-I’m-Seungri-what’s-your-name because – be prepared for the plot twist; insert a Hans Zimmer’s song here – well… I may or may not have _slept_ with him last summer.

My next e-mail will be about why **_dickhead_** really is such a name befitting Kwon fucking Jiyong.

 

P.S.: Perhaps, next time, learn how to _reply_ to someone’s message, Choi Seunghyun!

 

 

* * *

 

 


	3. « subject: cliche »

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story finally has a poster & I really love it. You can check it out [here](https://kameleon-writes.tumblr.com/post/162031803790/stop-the-world-i-wanna-get-off-with-you) if you'd like to!

 

**« subject: cliche »**

 

Seriously, Seunghyun: _how have you been_? I’ve been wondering.

(That rhymes; wow!)

Lately, I wake up at 5 in the morning, regardless of how late I go to bed the night before – there’s even this one time when I barely slept at all since I probably could finally close my eyes only minutes to 5 A.M.

The same thing’s what happened earlier this morning; I still cannot remember if I even closed my eyes last night since everything I saw was _that_ cold darkness. The only noise in my quiet room was the loud silence as my senses were indulged in the quiet. I always know better that the hours and minutes before the sunrise in big cities are the most peculiar time of the day. Just like what you once told me, Seunghyun: those are the moments when the world is the quietest and the voices and sounds we hear are the most sincere noise the world can ever make.

Yet I heard **nothing** , Seunghyun. Nothing. And this morning, as the familiar touch of my duvet was still blanketing me, the silence was finally broken for the very first time by the stench of _tobacco_.

On the other days, I’d wait and wait until, perhaps, the exhaustion reclaims my consciousness and lulls me to sleep, until my phone blasts the alarm song – it’s still the same Oasis’ _(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?_ , by the way – or my mind stops piercing through the thick silence engulfing me. But this morning, the smell of tobacco felt even more real than my duvet, mattress, bed, and bedroom.

I guess I’ve never felt this lonely before and Seunghyun, it’s _suffocating_ me.

By the way, just like you did, Jiyong smokes. Yet, unlike **_you_** , he’s always so considerate of me so he only smokes before or after seeing me – whenever he needs to have a puff or two, he’ll excuse himself and smoke outside. And strangely, I _sort of_ like the scent of his body… even when he’s sweating; his cologne, mixed with the subtle smell of tobacco and salty tang of sweat… Don’t be surprised once you know how I can’t keep myself off his – especially – lips. _And_ neck.

And dude, you know how often we use the name ‘dickhead’ to refer to someone utterly irritating and the one who often pisses us off, right? After my not-so first encounter with Jiyong – well, at least it _was_ our first meeting when none of us was intoxicated, wasn’t it? right? Right? – that nickname truly fit Kwon Jiyong in its  literal meaning.

I mean, he really was such a **_dickhead_** ; dangling between his legs was no his penis, but his brain, and from his neck upwards, it was his cock.

Got it? (Worry not; I have all the time in the world and enough patience to elaborate the details to you in every messages I’ll be sending to you. And yes, Seunghyun. Message ** _s_**. Notice that _**S**_ ,)

Well, I once told him about this and he only laughed it off, proudly telling me that he probably had the biggest dick on earth. Yeah, he’s also sort of _weird_ like that; it’s probably because of his profession.

So after he whispered in my ears and my stupid brain couldn’t help but recall one of the stupidest moments in my life, I got freaked out… _almost_ , if it wasn’t because of the tight grip around my wrist that forced me to stay. I can’t remember if I even managed to order my chicken, but I do remember that we were eating the food together – he sat across the table, his eyes were glued to me. Once or twice, I lifted my gaze and was immediately met by his gummy smile (not to mention, the sauce was smearing on his lips), which was _more distracting_ than the heat spreading on my cheeks whenever his knees bump on my thighs… and the latter was completely inevitable since the table was too small even for two, meaning that I spent my time eating my chicken wings while turning into a tomato.

I finished my chicken wings in a hurry, not really care if they were still too hot burnt my throat from the inside. Because… well, isn’t it _obvious_? I needed to get away from him, dude.

But I couldn’t even budge afterwards, not even twitching my finger. He was still smiling while wiping his lips; he even still did when he finally told me that it had been such a **pleasant surprise** to bump into me again.

Pleasant surprise _my ass..._ right? (Which was probably true since we probably had gone beyond _my ass_ the actual first time we met.)

He also added that I probably was the first one he met and still remembered clearly after _last summer_ , he couldn’t hold his curiosity. So he simply returned to the restaurant the next day and... voila! That's how Kwon Jiyong caught Lee Seungri... again.

Seunghyun, remember what I once asked you? About the life in real world and the one in fictions? Even after being with Jiyong for a while now, I still find myself asking the same question.

Which one is it, all the events in fictions are really taken from real life? Or should it be people taking the fictions too seriously so they try to make them happen in their life? Because, man, I completely understand if you couldn’t do anything but scoff at me for this level of cliché. I mean, look at how many movies or stories written where  two people getting involved with each other after a one-night stand? I bet the list will be longer than Spongebob’s to-do list of things to enjoy with Squidward in that episode when Squidward and Mr. Krab mistook him for eating the pie/bomb. Ever since whatever Higher Power up there decided that my life should collide with Jiyong’s, I feel like _I’ve been living a **cliché**_.

Of course, my stupid, innocent heart wished that it would really be the last time I saw him… which was proven wrong immediately right after he asked me where I worked and my stupid brain processed the information too efficiently (at the wrong time, even). Before I even realized it, I blurted out the names of the firm and building and the address.

Once I gained my sanity, it was already _too late_. Besides, apparently, both of us had been outside the restaurant – of course, I have no idea how I could even manage to stand and walk properly when I most likely lost all my senses and mind. And don’t dare you doubt me, Choi Seunghyun; I _did_ have the intention to run towards the traffic and wish that a bus would hit me so I could forget all the memories about that evening and last summer – well, since everything was an utter cliché, suffering from amnesia wouldn’t me too much to ask, right?

But I just… couldn’t. Just like what you once said whenever you teased me, Seunghyun: Lee Seungri really was such a coward (and he is still one now). Maybe my feet finally grew their roots, planting me firmly and turning me into a part of this concrete jungle… long story short, all the scenarios of me running away from this stranger never came true.

A yellow taxi stopped before us and with a gentle nudge on my elbow, he gestured me to follow him… and _fuck_ , Seunghyun, I _did_. He opened the door for me, still holding it even though I’ve seated myself on the back seat and pushed myself so he could sit next to me. I didn’t really hear the words he said to the driver, but to me, he only said that his name was Kwon Jiyong and that we’d meet again on Monday for lunch.

I did _not_ say ‘yes’, of course, since the door was already closed and my eyes were fixated at his shrinking figure as the taxi drove me back to my office. (And I didn’t leave my cubicle until Daesung arrived and took me home – I even literally begged him to not drive straight to my apartment, in case Jiyong was following me, and leave my place only when I had been lying in my bed safely. He absolutely thought that I had gone insane yet still offered to read _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ before leaving.)

 

P.S.: I changed the subject from ‘dickhead’ to ‘cliche' since I worried that your boss/co-workers would see this. Look at how thoughtful I am, _Choi Seunghyun_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**« subject: i forgot to tell you this »**

 

 

I had a wet dream that night and guess there’s no need for me to tell you who also appeared in my dream.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 


	4. « subject: maybe »

 

**« subject: maybe »**

 

 

There was _no_ way I could escape from him that Monday afternoon when he had been there, in the lobby, for only he and God knew how long (I should’ve used the emergency stairs instead of casually waltzing to the lobby, as if I surrendered myself to him – _yes,_ Seunghyun. _I knew_ ). And, hey, didn’t he have anything to do, like _working_? (Because, of course he, wasn’t unemployed.)

But, Seunghyun, Jiyong looked undoubtedly dazzling that afternoon in a black long coat… or maybe I’m always weak for the sight of a gorgeous in a coat (and hyperventilating when it’s paired with a knitted turtleneck inside). His black hair looked a little messy, which made him look even more irresistible. He wore kohl, and I still like it whenever he does it because the thin black lines accentuate his eyes perfectly. A pair of moss green boots and old-looking skinny jeans completed his look.

In an office lobby full of people dressed up formally, Kwon Jiyong had done more than enough to stand out. And I can tell you that he didn’t even try to do it because… well, it’s **_Kwon Jiyong_** ; even the subtlest gesture he makes, like shaking his head lightly or fixing the fringes, can always easily draw people’s attention. Including yours. I’m sure our front office ladies fell even harder for his charm right after he drew that gummy smile on his face once his eyes spotted me.

We didn’t go too far for lunch; it was _only_ that expensive restaurant near the office serving the same red wine you often ordered whenever we went there. Of course, I preferred drinking water; besides, having alcohol in my system when I was still as anxious as an abandoned kitten encountering an excited, curious puppy (aka him) would be the very last thing I wanted to happen that afternoon. I can’t even remember if I even touched my meal, let alone recalling what I ordered.

Jiyong dominated the conversation most of the time while I probably only muttered indistinct voices. But he talked warmly and the smile on his face didn’t falter at all as if it had always been stuck there. Meanwhile, my focus was completely distracted by one and only thing in my head: what happened last summer – because, _what else_?

I have to admit, Seunghyun, that there was a little part of my ego that felt _good_ if the possibility of us, Jiyong and me, fucking. Because, man, to conquer and be conquered by a man like _him_? Also, to make him somewhat curious of me after our (allegedly) one night stand, although it happened months before?

Suddenly, I felt better – mainly about myself.

From our conversation that afternoon, I figured out that he was (and is) an editor in chief of various popular high-end lifestyle magazines and a music producer for an independent label he and his friends started two years before. Well, that explained a lot… I guess? I don’t know. I think you can explain it better if you ever had a chance to meet him, Seunghyun. You were usually the best one when it came to guessing who someone really was, even in the first meeting, while I often took a long time to figure it out.

Also, I had no idea if it had anything to do with his intention, what (probably and most likely had) happened between us before – or the fact that I finally learnt later: it’s just the way he is – but he seemed… nice. And _genuine_. And that somewhat reminded me of you whenever you listened to me ranting about my work or when you only sat and waited patiently until I broke the silence after going through a bad day.

 _No,_ Seunghyun. I didn’t lower my defense _that_ easily. Stop mocking me with your face – I can see it right now even though you’re not even here. That was only a small thing that changed my impression about him and didn’t mean that there was already… _something_. No. Although I must admit – just like I did in the previous e-mail – that my life has been a cliché ever since I met Jiyong, it’s still **_my_** life and I’m the only one who have a control over it.

He was about to call his driver to drop me off at the office as we were heading to the elevator, but I refused his offer stubbornly, insisting on walking because you also know that it’s not that far from the restaurant, right? Jiyong only stared at me silently while I sent Daesung a text – or was it Youngbae? The elevator door opened, revealing nobody inside, and that left only us inside.

I was still frantically texting messages to Daesung/Youngbae so that I didn’t need to dwell in the awkward silence or feel Jiyong’s stare piercing through my skull. But it was so silent so I couldn’t help but feel curious; when I raised my stare, my eyes were soon met by Jiyong’s and his small smirk on the reflective surface of the elevator doors. Blame the kohl lining his eyes – little did I know that I’d love it later – for the chill I could feel in my bones.

My eyes were fixated on his reflection, unable to keep them off of it, even when he broke our indirect stare to lean his face closer to me. I can still recall how the chill sent the electricity throughout my nerves when his lips pecked the corner of my mouth and he whispered, “Let’s meet again tomorrow.”

Then the door opened and he walked ahead of me, pulling me by the hand. None of us said anything even after we were outside the lobby. But when his car arrived and his driver opened the back door, he broke the silence once again, asking me when I’d finish my work that Monday.

I didn’t answer him; a question was what slipped out of my mouth instead, asking _if we did sleep together last summer_. However, he only let go of my hand and smiled in return.

Hours later, there was a large bucket of chicken wings from Jonghoon’s restaurant sent to my cubicle. The unfamiliar handwriting read, ‘ _Dinner tomorrow. Tell me when you’ll get off work._ ’ Numbers followed; most likely _his_ phone number. The card turned into a ball in my hand before it smoothly landed in a small bin near my desk.

Youngbae dropped by that night –perhaps he was the one I texted – when I was finishing the chicken while watching TV. We didn’t talk much, I think, but I remember Youngbae took his time to cook so I could heat the food for breakfast later. He told me that Hyorin wanted to meet Daesung and me again and asked if weekend would be fine.

I went to the bedroom past midnight and left the door open so that the light from the outside seeped into the thick darkness surrounding me. My eyes kept staring at the splash of golden light as my brain kept recalling the words Youngbae told me before leaving my apartment:

_You know you can always call Daesung or me anytime, Seungri._

I reached for my phone and immediately found a number. My thumbs gently tapped the screen, composing a brief message and sending it as soon as I was done so that I would _not_ regret it later. The spot where Jiyong’s lips touched me felt warm.

Seunghyun, maybe I was only feeling lonely… _right_?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 


	5. « subject: genuine my ass »

 

**« subject: genuine my ass »**

 

 

Don’t call me a softie. Don’t call me mushy. That handwritten message didn’t get me at all, nor did the chicken wings.

 _Genuine my **ass**_ , indeed.

But, of course, assuming that nothing would do me harm (and assuming that I thought I **might** be lonely – yeah who cares about writing a properly logical sentence?), I accepted his invitation. The only reply I received was a simple, ‘ _Good_.’ As someone who ended up naked in my bedroom a few hours after the dinner that night, the reply didn’t insinuate… anything.

Enough with scowling at me, Choi Seunghyun; I _know_ how stupid I am, as you often reminded me almost every day.

So, I spent the whole morning worrying about what I should do and trying to carve my way out of this tangled mess even before it started by coming up with some ridiculous excuses to cancel the dinner. I can’t remember all of them, yet I do remember that telling him that I had upset stomach would work. But then I was, like, “How old are you, Lee Seungri? Are you a kid trying to skip school because you’re not ready for a math test?” And since I was no student and there was no math test, I left to work anyway.

There was nothing much that day, except for some sort of our team’s meeting – maybe, because it was still January and we was still working on the opinion following all those technical stuffs you definitely never want to hear – and the same amount of work. Well, basically, hours had passed and it was suddenly about 8 P.M. when I decided to get off work. There was no message from Jiyong at all; I knew I could get away from the dinner, I texted him nonetheless (besides, I was starving to death, dude. Don’t judge me).

He arrived about 15 minutes later; this time, he was the one behind the wheel. We didn’t talk much during the drive, except for the short conversation where he asked me how I was and such – you know, typical small talk – and the silence was filled with music playing from the speaker. Still, there was no sign of what he probably tried to hint regarding what he wanted; in fact, I had to admit that his music taste was OK. Well, it shouldn’t surprising because he was also a music producer, eh?

And yeah, one of the songs playing was Depeche Mode’s _Just Can’t Get Enough 1_. Yep, _that_ one song you once told me a perfect choice to play after sex.

Oh, I should’ve known… maybe that was a sign heaven sent me, yet I was too starving and exhausted to notice it. _I should’ve seen the sign_.

The dinner was… okay.  Well, it was great, actually – I was famished, the food was excellent. He did (and does) have an expensive taste and this time, I didn’t refuse the wine, although I had no idea what it was because we both know you were the expert when it came to wine, huh? The place was also ideal; it got the right ambience with warm golden lights flushing the quiet space and music playing in the air. Jiyong had reserved a space near the large window, the cityscape unfolding before our eyes. You know, that typical luxury restaurant.

Maybe it was the alcohol in my bloodstream or the fact that my hunger had been sated, but from what I recalled, the tension between us was no long as stiff as when we had lunch the day before. We enjoyed the food _together_ and Jiyong wasn’t the only one talking most of the time. It was amazing to see what the happy full tummy of Lee Seungri could do.

Fuck it, Seunghyun. _Fuck it. **Fuck it**_. I knew he was trying to hit on me; there was no way he wouldn’t especially after he kissed my cheek out of the blue inside the elevator and his invitation to meet again, after how he not-so-subtly-and-obviously-not-accidentally brushed his shin against mine, after the kisses in a different elevator this time, and after all the touching inside his car. It was so obvious from the very beginning, and I clearly was too dumb to get away before it was already too late.

When both of us were standing in front of my apartment door, with me feeling a little more than tipsy and my brain a little cloudy, I finally realized that I was already knee-deep in the twist; with almost no way to escape, all I could do was to make the most of it – after all, it wasn’t like our first time after what had happened last summer. It didn’t feel wrong, _it should not feel so wrong_.

That was how I ended up pulling him closer to me, kissing him sloppily on his open mouth for the nth time, and both of us bare to each other afterwards, our heart beating in a reckless beat for our bodies to follow. He got the fire, and he walked with it, burning me and turning me into ashes, only to bring me back to life and burn me, over and over again. And when the room was filled with our erratic breath and a distinct smell of sex, he leaned in for a kiss.

Just a kiss, a soft one that lasted for no more than five seconds, yet it was the one that had shifted the center of my gravity. I was no longer knee-deep, Seunghyun. That very second when his lips touched mine, I was completely drown already.

He said he wanted to have a puff and asked if it’d be okay to smoke in the balcony outside my room – I had no idea before that he was a smoker. I said okay and he gave me the same kiss again before leaving the bed without even bothering to wear any layer of fabric to cover his nudity.

Jiyong was outside, smoking, and I was inside, thinking about… I don’t know. Maybe about what would happen to me, to _us_. Maybe about the sex and what it made _us_. Maybe about nothing.

He returned to the bed along with the smell of tobacco and the taste of nicotine lingering on his lips melted into my tongue right away. We resumed our voyage, fingers digging into skin, teeth marking the bites, reds and dark blues blossoming, sweat and saliva leaving glistening trails across each other’s body. There was no longer any border existing between pain and pleasure; I felt like a teenager, once again, doing things I had no idea my body could do and endure, experiencing things I had never had before.

He said he wanted me, amidst the heavy breaths and moaning of each other’s name. He said it once and yes, I **_wanted_** him too. I _wanted_ this. I _wanted_ to yearn for somebody else’s presence in my bedroom. I _wanted_ to get rid of the old tobacco smell and swap it with Jiyong’s scent in the room, his scent on me.

I’ve never had this feeling before, Seunghyun. I’ve never jumped so quick the way I did with Jiyong. Everything was new to me, yet here I am now. But could you please tell me what you might’ve said if you were there that night? Or when Jiyong and I met again, accidentally, in Jonghoon’s chicken shop? Or when Jiyong and I met for the first time last summer? _Tell me,_ Seunghyun.

It was no love, I knew it, but it was the closest thing to not waking up alone.

 

P.S.: Hana’s wedding date has been decided; it’ll be on the first week of November.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Depeche Mode, _Just Can't Get Enough_ [[link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_6FBfAQ-NDE)]  
>  Dickhead Jiyong what? Yep, our narrator here, as you may have noticed, isn’t reliable (and the original author is way more unreliable – my only excuse is: hold on, there are still so many chapters coming).  
> Until then,  
> -k


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